


Finding Each Other

by PageTurner29



Series: For the Love of an Irishman [1]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25540981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PageTurner29/pseuds/PageTurner29
Summary: *Taking place immediately after the last episode of S4*Winchester is back in Edward's hands. An uneasy peace has been achieved between the Saxons and the Danes. Eadith has sacrificed and lost much and is now uncertain what the future holds for her. Left with a broken body and broken heart, Finan is there to help her pick up the pieces. A multi-chapter tribute to their story, as I imagine it.
Relationships: Eadith & Finan (The Last Kingdom), Eadith/Finan (The Last Kingdom)
Series: For the Love of an Irishman [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989763
Comments: 45
Kudos: 83





	1. A Broken Cage

“How did you like your first battle?” Finan teased as he began to wind the bandage tightly around her ribs.

  
Eadith sharply inhaled against the pressure but managed to say through gritted teeth, “I swear it will be my last. From now on, I will be staying in the tent.”  
Finan gave a soft chuckle. They both knew this was a lie. Eadith was not one to cower or back down. It was one of the many things he admired about her.

  
“You showed the spirit of a true warrior,” he assured her. The pride clear in his voice.

“Perhaps my family honor is restored,” she laughed, followed quickly by a gasp at the pain this brought her. Then, with quiet resignation in her voice she whispered, “If only those who cared for me were still here to see it.”

If she had been paying attention, she would have seen so much in Finan at that moment. His hands stilled around her. His dark eyes filled with compassion and empathy, before clouding over with sorrow - sorrow for all that she had lost and sorrow for her blindness to his care for her. There was so much that he wanted to tell her, and in that fraction of a second it had all flashed across his face for her to see. But she had not seen, and in that moment he couldn’t articulate his thoughts and feelings to her. So, instead, he just gently drew her closer to him as he continued to carefully bandage her broken ribs. A broken cage around a broken heart.

When he had finished, he slowly and cautiously helped her to her feet, his eyes never leaving her face as he searched for signs of pain. She grimaced a little but then a small smile made its way across her lips and she looked at him and nodded. “Much better, thank you, my lord.”

He smiled in relief back at her. “You’ll need to rest for a day or two. Ribs are finicky bastards and they will need time to set properly.”

She gave a small nod and then looked around her. She was a stranger to Winchester and could not afford to stay at the local inn, if it was even in any condition for guests after the recent Danish siege. She said none of this but Finan could read her thoughts. She could, in fact, stay in that tent she had spoken of earlier, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her sleeping on the hard ground in her condition.

“Why don’t you rest here for a moment? I’ll go find Sihtric and see if he knows what our plan is from here.” Gently, he sat her back down on the barrel that she had been sitting on before. He caught Osferth’s eye across the street and surreptitiously tilted his head towards Eadith, signalling the baby monk to watch over her while he was gone. Then, slowly removing his hands from under her elbows and allowing his fingers gently stroke her milky white arms as he did so, he turned and headed in search of King Edward.

He found him, dirty and battle worn, speaking with one of his military commanders. Edward briefly glanced at Finan and then his eyes swept to the right and left of him, looking for Uhtred. The fact that Finan was not at his side was odd.

“May I have a word, Lord King?” Finan asked with a respectful bow of his head. Edward had acted foolishly over recent days and Finan could have happily slugged him for leaving Uhtred to die, but Eadith needed something which only Edward could give. So, Finan bit back his pride and forced his body to relax as the young king turned to him, waiting for Finan’s request.

Within the hour, Finan was back at Eadith’s side and gently walking her down the hall of Edward’s palace. He had reminded the King that Eadith had saved not only his sister’s life, but that of his niece. She also had risked her life to enter Winchester to try and check on the hostages, made up of nearly the entire Royal family. Finan had convinced Edward that Eadith was at least owed a comfortable and safe room where she could heal.

Eadith had done her best to protest against Finan’s arrangement, but she knew as well as Finan that she had no other alternative. Gratefully, she grasped Finan’s forearm as he led her down the stone hallway to what would be her chamber for the coming days. She felt weak, which she hated on so many fronts, and every breath pained her. But Finan’s strong yet immeasurably gentle grasp allowed her to let her guard down a little. She was safe for now, with a group of men who had shown her more kindness than she would have ever have hoped to have been shown in her lifetime.

They were both surprised to find a female servant waiting for her in her room. A wash bowl and some medicinal herbs and supplies were waiting for her on the table. “I’m here to help you wash up and get you into bed,” said the kind faced older woman. She strode forward and took Eadith’s hands in her own. She had a remarkably strong grip. Eadith turned to give her thanks to Finan but she only caught a glance of the back of his armor and brown hair retreating back through the chamber door.


	2. You Honor Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eadith is recovering from injuries in Winchester hall, where Finan has secured a room for her. She awakens in the night to a foreboding sound outside her door. Fearing the worst she arms herself but she is met with a surprise when she attempts to face her attacker.

It took a moment for Eadith to remind herself where she was in the darkness. She could tell that she was in a rather large room, but the fire had died down too low for her to see much beyond that. She was in the most comfortable bed she had been in in quite some time, maybe ever. The bedding was cool and silky, while the blankets and furs were a reassuring weight on top of her. She felt utterly at peace. As she reached her arms above her head, a flash of white hot pain shot through her rib cage and quickly reminded her of the battle she had gotten caught in earlier. She could feel new bruises had bloomed down her legs and her shoulders and arms ached. Resolving to stay still she lay there and let her eyes adjust. She had been having the most wonderful sleep and she assumed that a jolt of pain had woken her from her deep slumber.

But, then she heard it.

Outside the door of her chamber there was a faint grunting sound - almost like a growl, but she knew that sound was human. Her blood ran cold. There was a man outside her door! Perhaps it was a drunken soldier who was looking for female companionship to celebrate the Saxon victory earlier that day. No doubt word had spread that the king was hosting a young, unprotected maiden in his castle. Her injury would make her easy prey. Eadith also knew that her reputation among the Mercian men wouldn’t help her case either. She winced at the memory of her night with the Mercian king, and chastised herself for letting her guard down here.

Quickly, she scanned the darkness for a weapon or anything to defend herself with. The first thing her eyes landed on was a vase with beautiful flowers in it on the table closest to her. The grunting outside was getting louder and she could hear a scraping or shuffling sound now against the outer wall. With fear growing in her belly she realized that she didn’t have the strength to move anything against the door to bar it, nor did she have the key to lock the room from the inside. Chances are the man coming to claim her was drunk and mustering the courage to enter her chamber. Or, perhaps, he would just stumble in and find her there. Never one to passively wait for danger to come to her, Eadith set her jaw and slowly got up. The pain was excruciating but she bit her lip and forced herself to stand. Quietly she shuffled along the stone floor to the table and, carefully withdrawing the flowers, she picked up the vase. Clutching it in one hand she took the remaining 8 steps to the door. The grunting was loud now. Perhaps there were two of them? Steeling herself for a fight she raised the vase above her head and swung the door open.

The light from the oil lamps in the hall was dim but enough to temporarily blind her for half a moment. She heard a flurry of movement and saw a flash of green and brown. The scrape of a knife being drawn from its sheath reached her ears at the same moment that her body was thrown back against the door. Pain blinded her senses and her mouth opened in a gasp, but her chest could not expand to take any air in. An impossibly strong body was pressed against her and she could feel cold steel at her throat. Foolish girl! She had hoped she was past feeling helpless at the hands of a man, but here she was.

She looked up to face her attacker, but instead she was met with deep brown eyes, still foggy from sleep.

“Finan!” she gasped. His eyes cleared and he dropped the blade. It clattered to the ground as he jumped back and raised his hands.

“Eadith!” he muttered. “I’m sorry...I…” She almost laughed but then she swooned a little as the adrenaline left her and pain took its place. Finan lunged forward to steady her, concern etched across his face.

“Did I hurt you?” he whispered, and she could hear the fear in it. With one hand he carefully took the vase out of her hand, which he was still gripping with surprising strength, and placed it behind him. He cupped her cheek in his other hand and brought her eyes to look into his, before quickly scanning the rest of her body.

“No,” she assured him. The comforting pressure of his fingers around the back of her head with his thumb gently stroking in front of her ear took all of her attention for a moment. “You just frightened me. Or, rather, I frightened myself,” she continued, “I thought I heard...” It’s then that she saw the chair outside her door. The truth of the situation hit her in stages.

He had set up a post outside her door. To keep her safe while she slept. In the King’s hall. Surrounded by guards. After a long day of battle and countless bruises of his own, he had been willing to sleep on a hard wooden chair to ensure that she had nothing to fear.

Warmth flooded her body and her eyes flew back up to his, seeking confirmation of her assumption. He dropped his gaze and in his soft brogue said, “I only wanted to make sure no one disturbed you. But apparently the only one who did that was me.”

She chuckled, ignoring the searing pain that went up her left side. “I should have recognized your snore. I thought that a great bear was outside my bed chamber.” He winced in apology but also because he knew it was a lie. He knew what she had feared was waiting for her on the other side of that door. It is why he had been out there in the first place.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Lady, and even more so for attacking you like that. Soldier’s instincts - I expect. I’ve nearly cut Uhtred’s throat several times in the night when he woke me unexpectedly.” He realized that he was nervously babbling and added, “Not that that’s an excuse though. I’m a damn fool. Are you sure you’re not hurt? Let me send for a healer to check you over!” He was helping her back into her chamber but he started to turn, looking towards the hall where Edward’s advisors and healers slept.

“No!” she snapped, more harshly than she meant to. The truth was that she didn’t want him to leave her again. “I’m fine. I assure you, my Lord,” she said, more softly.

“You don’t have to call me that, Lady. I’m not yer lord,” he tenderly whispered in his soft Irish brogue. His mouth was close to her ear as he led her back towards the bed with both arms wrapped around her in support. “And after what I just did to ye’, I certainly don’t deserve any title of honor,” he grumbled, half to himself. Were it not for the dark and his thick beard, the flush of embarrassment in his cheeks would have been easily visible.

She looked over at him, hoping to assure him with a tender smile that she was alright. “You honour me too highly - both by troubling yourself to keep watch outside my door all night, and by calling me ‘Lady’. My days of deserving that title are well behind me now.”

They had reached the bed now and he gently helped lower her into it. He smelled of leather and sweat, and she wished that she could more deeply inhale his scent. His great arm cradled her as he softly set her down in the bed, while his other hand picked up her feet and delicately placed them under the coverlet and furs. She felt almost silly - like a small child. But his touch and care were so foreign to her and not in an unpleasant way. She’d never had a man treat her with such care - especially where a bed was involved. She smiled as he pulled the blankets up and she half expected him to tuck her in as her former nurse maid had done so many years ago.

However, when he let his fingers gently graze her shoulder and collarbone, any feelings she had of being treated like a child evaporated. Goose bumps prickled her skin under the covers and her already shallow breath caught in her chest. He was looking at her with such reverence.

“Sleep well, m’lady,” he whispered before adding, “for you are one still”

Before she could respond he turned and headed for the door. She watched him straighten himself and his warrior frame seemed to fill the doorway as he quickly looked back and said, “I’ll be outside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in the previous chapter notes, I have a lot of moments between Finan and Eadith rolling around in my head. I'm having fun telling their story. I hope that some of you enjoy reading it.


	3. Where You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finan and Eadith get to know each other while she heals in Edward's hall.

“Come at me! I’m ready to meet my fate!” Finan bellowed at his opponent. He made a show of slapping his armor and making himself look ready for the coming battle. He crouched and held the wooden sword before him.

Aethelstan giggled and then ran across the field to Finan. His wooden sword, nearly too big for him, was pointed at Finan’s chest. At the last moment, Finan leapt to the side and was surprised when Aethelstan quickly swung his hands so that the sword nearly slapped him across the back of the legs. He had taught the lad that move yesterday but hadn’t expected him to use it here. He had good instincts.

He couldn’t let the boy win, however. So, he used the unfair advantage of his reach to quickly turn and smack the sword from Aethelstan’s hand. Deprived of his weapon the young lad’s shoulders slumped and he put up his hands in defeat, his mouth forming a small frown.

“Don’t be like that, my little warrior. You did well. That little turn at the end nearly got me.” He ruffled Aethelstan’s hair and both heard clapping coming from beneath the tree several meters away. They turned to see Eadith, smiling as she cheered them on. “Bravo, Aethelstan!” she called. She was a vision. Her copper hair blew lightly in the breeze, standing out amongst the long green grass around her. She smiled at Finan and he couldn’t help but grin back.

“Now, Aethelstan,” Finan said as he reluctantly turned his attention back to the boy. “You gave up as soon as I had disarmed ye’, but the fight wasn’t over yet. Being disarmed is an inconvenience to be sure, but not a death sentence if you’re cunning. You must use anything around you that you can find. Rocks, sticks, dirt...vases…” He said the last part little louder than necessary and turned to catch Eadith’s eye as he winked. She heard his tease and blushed a little before breaking into a wide, sheepish grin.

It had only been a couple of days since they had accidentally attacked each other in the middle of the night in Edward’s hall. Since then they had spent quite a bit of time together. Normally he would be anxious to be on the road by now, chasing down the next battle. But, they had agreed to stay for a few days. Sihtric was seeking out news about the spread of the sickness through the land - a task which Finan had happily avoided. Uhtred wanted to ensure that the peace he had bartered between Aethelfled, Edward, and Sigtryggr remained in place. Now that his daughter was with the Danes, Uhtred wanted to ensure that there were no rumblings of battle or chasing down the Sigtryggr’s army as they made their way to their new lands. Uhtred had taken Eadith under his protection, and with a knowing look, placed Finan in charge of watching over her while she healed. He hadn’t really needed to do that, since Finan had voluntarily guarded her chambers the first night in Edward’s hall, but by making it official Uhtred had shrewdly given Finan an excuse to stay by her side while preserving Eadith’s honor. He was a smart man, and Finan owed him several jugs of ale.

So, Eadith and Finan had spent the last two days almost entirely together. She mainly stayed in her chamber the first day to allow her bones and bruises to heal. He kept her door propped wide open with his heavy shield, while he sat several feet away or by the door to avoid any claims of impropriety by the hall gossips. After that, she had felt well enough to wander the gardens or to come watch his training sessions with Aethelstan. They mostly talked about him as she did not yet seem ready to speak of her dishonoured family or her past in Mercia. He had equally avoided speaking about his life in Irland - it didn’t really seem like a part of his life that belonged to him anymore anyways.

That evening, as they both sat at the table in her chamber, picking at a platter of fruits and cheeses, she asked, “Tell me how you came to be in Uhtred’s service.” He gave a weak smile but paused at the painful memory of their meeting. He looked up to see her green eyes looking at him curiously. “Your bond is clearly deep. I only ask to know how two great warriors came to be banded together,” she said, almost apologetically at seeing his hesitation.

Finan sighed. He was not ashamed at having been a slave, but he still didn’t like the thought of her seeing him as such. He didn’t want her to pity him as he had once pitied himself.

“Uhtred and I met as slaves.” He paused, watching her expression for any sign of her reaction. He saw the breath catch in her chest but her emerald eyes implored him to go on. “We had both been betrayed by those we thought we could trust and found ourselves together, being forced to row a ship for traders. One of Uhtred’s men had been sold with him and they both sat in front of me on the boat. One day, his man, Halig, had reached his breaking point. He started screaming out, saying he needed land. The slaver went to whip him and Uhtred covered Halig’s body with his own, taking the lashings across his own back. I knew then that I would follow a man like that into death itself.” He paused and then added, “Do not speak of Halig to Uhtred. After one of our escape attempts, which failed because Uhtred refused to leave Halig behind, the poor bastard met a crueler fate than any man should have to endure. His name only brings Uhtred pain.” Eadith nodded and her eyes welled with tears a little. Looking down and fiddling with the cross at his neck, Finan continued, “When Uhtred’s brother, Ragnar, freed us and asked me if Uhtred and I were brothers, I declared that we were bound. My fate is his. Where he goes, I go.”

They both jumped when Sihtric appeared at the door with a loud knock. The sneaky Dane had always been too quiet on his feet. “Finan, Uhtred says we leave for Coccham tomorrow morning.” Seeing the hesitation in his friend’s face he said, “Don’t worry. The sickness is mainly to the north. We can reach Coccham with your guts still intact, although I’m not sure about your balls after spending so much time in the king’s halls.” He winked at Eadith and she smiled back at him, although her smile too was strained. “You’re welcome to join us, Lady. Uhtred says that there will always be a place for you in Coccham.” He left before she could reply.

Eadith looked back at Finan and saw him getting up. “I should ready the horses and ensure Aethelstan is ready to go tomorrow,” he mumbled. He didn’t know what to say, nor did he want her to feel pressured in her choice. So, he was doing something he rarely did in life - he was backing down. He was nearly through the door when he felt her smooth hand wrap itself around his callused one and pull him back.

“Finan, wait.” He looked back at her and all of his will power melted away. She looked nervous. She was biting her lip and were it not for the worried lines creasing her forehead he would have taken her trembling lip between his own in that instant. Her eyes held so many questions and he met them with one of his own, the one that he had been too afraid to ask.

“Will you come with us, Lady?” It was only a fraction of a moment but she was tense and seemed to be struggling with indecision. He tried to add one last attempt to sway her. “You would be saf…”

Suddenly Eadith’s eyes set in determination and he was surprised when she roughly pushed him behind the door and against the cold stone wall behind it. His hands flew to her waist to support her, being mindful of her ribs. He started to question her but suddenly her mouth was on his. Soft but urgent. Determined and possessive. When she broke away, much too soon for his liking, her chest was heaving. “Finan, where you go, I go.”

He smiled and brought her to him for another kiss, long and full of tenderness. Then, he took her hand in his and they walked through the door together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come!


	4. In the Shadow of a Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eadith sets out for Coccham with Uhtred and his men. While stopping for a rest, she and Finan sneak away for a few moments together and are met with something unexpected.

It was good to be on the road again, away from the hustle of Winchester. Eadith was also glad to be free of its stench - a combination of sweaty bodies, chamber pots, and the lingering smell of death from the recent battle there. She deeply inhaled the cool breeze as it washed over her. The sun was warm, but preferable to the cold stone walls of King Edward’s hall. She felt happier than she had felt in quite some time, maybe ever.

Ahead of her, she watched Finan and Uhtred ride side by side. They were laughing at some shared memory, and the sound of Finan’s deep laugh made her smile. Aethelstan shared a horse with Uhtred, riding in front of him. He and Finan were taking turns trying to sneakily jab a finger in each other’s sides when the other wasn’t looking. The boy looked happy too. While she understood Uhtred’s reluctance to take him on, she had no doubts that Aethlstan was happier in his care than confined within the silent walls of the monastery.

“I haven’t given you my congratulations yet, lady,” Sihtric said beside her, rousing her from her thoughts. “Whatever for?” Eadith asked while turning to face him. Sihtric was a warrior to the core, yet kind and gentle. He was also a man who said very little, so when he spoke it was important to listen.

“Congratulations on your freedom,” he replied with a small, yet warm smile. “The day that Uhtred took me into his service I was no longer indentured to serving a dishonorable father who cared nothing for me. The Gods gave my own life back to me the day that I first rode with Uhtred and Finan. I know that you’ve suffered loss and pain, but you are now free to choose your own path - wherever that may take you.” He finished by intentionally tilting his eyes at Finan and smiling.

Eadith didn’t know what to say. Feeling her cheeks flush she just reached across to squeeze Sihtric’s hand and said, “Thank you, Sihtric.” Sihtric knew Finan well, and his blessing and kindness was worth more than gold to her.

“I believe that’s the longest string of words you’ve ever put together, Sihtric. Was it painful?” Osferth teased. He had been quietly riding behind them and, in truth, Eadith had forgotten he was there. Sihtric grinned and shook his head ruefully but said nothing. He would get his revenge later when Osferth wasn’t expecting it.

“He’s right though, Lady” Osferth continued, keeping one eye on Sihtric, both out of wariness of an oncoming sneak attack and to solidify his agreement with his sentiments. “Your life is your own again. You should consider what you want to do with it.”

Eadith looked down, unsure of what to say. She never expected to be in this situation. The uncertainty of it all was both exhilarating and overwhelming. Before she could consider her fate further, Uhtred turned in his saddle to half face them.

“It’s getting hot and the horses need to cool. We’ll find water and rest in the forest there,” Uhtred yelled back at them, pointing at the edge of a forest that was just peaking over the hillside. Eadith was grateful for the rest, for although her ribs had healed much over the last few days, the jostling of her horse made her chest ache.

They stopped just inside the forest, where it was shady but the sunshine beyond the canopy still provided light and just enough warmth. Sihtric helped Eadith off of her horse, but she insisted on being the one to tie her to a tree and soothe her. They were, after all, still getting to know each other. Finan had presented Eadith with the chestnut mare that morning before they left Winchester. He insisted that he had won her in a gambling game at the ale house the previous night while she had been bathing, one of the few times that he had left her side. She had looked at him dubiously, but when she saw the pride in his eye at giving her such a beautiful gift she decided it was not worth challenging the truthfulness of his story. The horse was beautiful - 15 hands high with a shiny brown coat and white stockings on all 4 legs. She was muscular and graceful as Finan led her out of the barn to be saddled and loaded.

“What’s her name?” Eadith had asked.

“The previous owner insisted that she had come to him without one. What would you like to name her?” Finan asked, as Eadith stroked the mare’s withers. She thought for a moment before asking, “What is the word for beautiful in your home language? In Irland?”

Finan looked up surprised and then grinned, “Cadhla (ky-lah) - it means beautiful and graceful. It’s the perfect name...if she’ll take it.”

Eadith moved to face the horse, gently stroking her long neck. “How about it, my girl? Would you like to be called Cadhla?” The horse nickered and nuzzled Eadith’s neck, which she had taken as a yes.

Eadith tied Cadhla to a tree with an abundance of long sweet grass at the bottom of it. She looked up to find Uhtred at her side, holding a bundle of water skins out to her. “There is a stream just up there. Would you fetch us some water?” he asked, while smiling kindly. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked behind her and loudly added, “Take Finan with you to keep him out of trouble.” Subtlety was not Uhtred’s strong suit, but Eadith was glad for the opportunity to not only be of use to this band of men who had taken her under their wing, but to also spend a few moments alone with Finan.

They walked hand in hand through the forest, before Finan gently pulled her back towards the outer edge and into the sunshine. “I want to show you something,” he said in his soft brogue. Before them lay a field of wildflowers in every hue and colour imaginable. A hundred feet or so from them stood a tall oak tree, its leafy canopy an island of dark green in a sea of colour. It was breathtaking. Finan led Eadith to the tree. When they reached it they both dropped the water skins they had been carrying. He leaned back against its rough trunk and drew her to him. She placed her hands on his chest, covered by his leather armor and breathed in his scent. Leather, sweat, and a tinge of the soap from the bath he’d enjoyed the night before.

“Are you happy?” he asked quietly as his hands cupped her face.

“Yes,” she breathed, getting up on her toes to give him a long, deep kiss. She didn’t know how long they stayed like this. Slowly kissing, with no urgency because it felt like they had all the time in the world to enjoy each other’s company.

They both froze though when they heard rustling in the grass close by. Was it one of the men trying to sneak up on them to scare them? She looked into Finan’s eyes and saw that the warmth had left them, replaced by the cold gaze of a warrior. He gave her an almost imperceptible shake of his head, as if to say, “No one we know made that sound.” He discretely slipped the knife out of his belt and pressed it into her hand. She clutched it to her stomach.

In one fluid motion he swung her around so that she was pressed against the tree and he was facing outwards towards the long grasses of the meadow. She hadn’t even heard him draw his sword, but there it was in his hand, ready to fight. All was quiet for a moment, but then they could see a section of the wildflowers and grass many feet ahead of them move. Someone, for it was too big to be an animal, was crawling towards them.

“Lord!! Sihtric!” Finan yelled back towards the trees. Their attacker jumped up from the grass. He was a shorter man dressed in peasant clothes. Certainly no warrior. He held an axe above his head and ran at Finan with a fiery, determined fury. Finan strode out to meet him. Their weapons sang off of each other twice before Finan rolled and cut the man’s legs out from under him. This was why they called him “Finan the Agile.” The man went down in a scream of pain but was quickly silenced as Finan drove his sword through his back.

Eadith breathed a sigh of relief and took two steps towards Finan. She sensed it before she felt it. The hair on her neck and arms stood on end right before a man’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind, roughly pulling her back against him. Then, she felt the cold blade at her throat.

Finan looked up at her, still cleaning the blood from his blade, and froze.


	5. The Warrior Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just read, you'll see ;-) 
> 
> This is a longer chapter, but worth it (I hope).

Time slowed as Finan took in the scene before him. Eadith was about 25 paces away. A large man had his filthy arm around her chest and held a long blade against her throat. She stood stock still, eyes wide. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sihtric running, sword drawn, far down the meadow on his right. He was sure that Uhtred was right behind. He assumed that neither had a spear, and the shot would be much too perilous to take from their distance. His sword brothers would be of no help here. He could run to her, but the brute would likely slice Eadith’s throat before he could get there. Sihtric and Uhtred would be unable to sneak around and attack him from behind without being seen. Finan could lay down his weapons and try to negotiate - offer him silver. The man was large but looked tired and hungry. He and the man lying in a pool of his own blood at Finan’s feet were likely just common thieves looking for easy prey. He loathed the fact that he and Eadith had fallen into their hands so easily. He just hoped that the man preferred coin over avenging his friend’s death.

Finan had barely moved his arm to lower his sword, praying to the Lord that it would not be Eadith’s undoing, when quick as lightning, Eadith rammed the knife he had given her into her captor’s thigh. She had been holding it so tightly to her belly, just below where he had grabbed her, that the fool must not have known she had it. He bellowed in pain and took a step backwards. In one fluid, beautiful motion, Eadith pulled the knife out and swung her arm backwards in a round arc. Finan watched in awe as the knife, as if guided by God himself, cut cleanly through the man’s throat. Sihtric flew past him to get to Eadith’s side but Finan knew that it was already over, even as he broke into a run beside Sihtric. The brute hit his knees and fell to his side at Eadith’s feet.

“Eadith!” Finan cried, as he ran. Sihtric got there a moment before he did and quickly put himself between Eadith and the man on the ground who was gurgling his last breaths. Finan grabbed her hand, the one without the blade and turned her towards him so that he could check her over. Her eyes were bright green, glassy with adrenaline, blood was spattered across her cheek and chest but he could tell that it was not her own. He breathed and let his stomach, which had been in his throat, settle back into its rightful place as he pulled her towards him and kissed her forehead. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest through his armor. “Shh, you’re safe now,” he whispered into her hair.

“Are you both alright?” Uhtred asked breathlessly as he came to their side, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. They both deftly nodded at him, but didn’t let go of each other. Uhtred kicked the man on the ground onto his back, examining the wound in his throat. Eadith tensed in Finan’s arms and intentionally kept her gaze away from the man’s face. “You are quite the warrior, Lady Eadith. I have not seen skill like that in a woman since Hild.” Eadith gave a weak smile but said nothing.

“Sihtric, ensure that no one else is hiding in the tall grasses waiting to jump out at us,” Uhtred commanded. Sihtric nodded and waded into the meadow, beautiful and serene just moments ago, with his sword drawn and his body poised to attack. Uhtred covered ground in the other direction to ensure that the threat was truly gone.

Eadith’s heart was slowing and Finan eased his grip around her. “You fought bravely,” he said, pulling her chin up so that her eyes met his.

“I knew I shouldn’t have sworn that Winchester would be my last battle,” she said with a weak laugh.

Finan was relieved to hear her joke, and followed her lead by teasing, “Well, in all fairness, we hadn’t set up formal camp, so there was no tent for you to stay back in and keep your oath.” Eadith laughed.

With the tension broken, Finan quietly said, “Would you like to keep that?” and motioned at the knife that she still gripped tightly in her right hand. She looked down, clearly surprised that she was still holding it, and then shook her head and handed it to him. He quickly put it back in his belt. He would clean it later when he could do it out of her sight so as not to trouble her.

“They are Mercian thieves,” Sihtric said, jogging back to them. “They have a stash of Mercian coins in the bushes over there, as well as jewellery and things that they’ve obviously stolen. They were probably running from the sickness to the North and thieving their way through Wessex.” Finan nodded in agreement, he had expected as much. Still, he was embarrassed to have been caught unawares by them, and he would never forgive himself for having put Eadith in harm’s way. It was then that Finan noticed that Sihtric was grinning.

“What?” he asked, already exasperated at what he expected would come next. “It’s just funny,” Sihtric chuckled. “The great warrior of Irland finally found a woman to protect. Only, she fights better than he does.” Finan shoved Sihtric hard, but appreciated that his joking continued to lighten the tension and settle his nerves.

They were both startled from their jovial mood when Eadith said darkly, “It was luck. I didn’t know where I aimed. It was only luck that I caught his throat. Only luck…” she trailed off.

“You’re wrong. It was instinct. Any man swinging backwards like you did would be swinging blind and just praying to hit his mark - same as you. Something inside knew what you were doing.” Finan said emphatically. Sihtric nodded, his face serious to show Eadith that his teasing had been born of admiration, not disrespect.

“We should head back,” Eadith said, clearly wanting to change the subject. Finan could see Uhtred picking through the thieves' belongings and he assumed they would be bringing everything back with them to Cocchum. Aethelstan and Osferth were likely waiting for them back with the horses.

Before he could go to help Uhtred collect the bags, Sihtric gently said, “We still need water. The stream is over there. You should both go clean yourselves up and bring the waterskins with you. I'll help Uhtred." Sihtric squeezed Eadith’s arm as he walked away from her and jogged to meet his lord.

Finan retrieved the water skins from beneath the tree and held them in one hand while holding onto Eadith’s hand with his other. They were silent as they walked back towards the woods, in search of the stream. Finan had never felt this way about a woman - ever. He had always considered himself to be self-sufficient. He’d enjoyed the company of women many times, even been married when he was in Irland, but he’d never felt like this. Like the air was sweeter when she was around and like he would never be able to be happy if she wasn’t. She gave him a purpose and the desire to be something more than the Irish war machine he had been all of these years.

When they reached the stream Eadith immediately started to scrub at the blood on her hands. Finan said nothing, letting her do what she needed to wash away the memory. When she started to scrub at the blood on her dress he realized that he too had blood splattered across the front of his armor. He lifted it over his head and started to carefully clean the stains from the leather scales. He looked up to see Eadith unsuccessfully trying to wash the blood from her face and neck.

“Let me,” he said, moving towards her. He ripped a small piece of cloth from the bottom of his tunic and dipped it in the cool water. Carefully he wiped away every trace of the man who would have done her harm.

“I’ve been in a hundred battles, but I doubt I’ve ever been as scared as I was today,” he admitted quietly.

“I was not as scared as I likely should have been,” she said with a small smile. “I knew that you were there, and as long as you breathe, no man will ever harm me again.”

“You saved yourself,” he reminded her.

“Only because you taught me that I could,” she countered.

He kissed her then. Tenderly and deeply. It was her who made the kiss more urgent. She wound her fingers through his hair and pressed herself tightly against him. He reciprocated by tangling his fingers into her long, red tresses with one hand and running his other hand up and down her body, relishing the feel of her curves. He felt her breath quicken and, with it, the pace of everything they were doing. Suddenly, she was clawing at his tunic. He reluctantly broke from the kiss in order to pull it over his head, before hurriedly pulling her to him again. Every gap of air between them seemed a sin.

He was surprised when she slowed a little in order to trace the scars along his shoulders and bare chest, kissing each and every one with tender reverence. Every place that her lips touched felt like fire. He had never wanted a woman so badly and he groaned in pleasure.

She brought herself back up to his mouth. “Finan, my dress” she said breathlessly. He fumbled, not allowing himself to pull back from her for a moment, to find the strings in the back which would free her body. He thought he felt the edge of a tie and pulled, but Eadith gasped as they heard a ripping sound. Before he could respond she laughed and pulled her dress down exposing her naked body. Finan was sure that heaven itself would not be a more beautiful sight.

Pulling her to him again he wrapped her legs around him and got up, carrying her to a nearby tree with soft moss covering its base. Carefully, he lay her down, closely following her. He felt a strain in his britches and knew that she must feel his need for her. She was a vision of milky white skin beneath him, with red hair flowing out around her like flames, and her green eyes bored into his soul.

“I was wrong,” he said as he bent to trace soft kisses along her hair line and down her neck. “You’re not just a warrior. You’re a queen. My _rígain,”_ he said, his husky brogue vibrating into her collarbone.

Her breath caught as his fingers found the soft warmth between her legs. He stayed there, revelling in the waves of pleasure that he saw roll across her face. “Finan,” she gasped, “please!” He had never wanted anything more.

Bringing himself to hover above her, he cupped her beautiful face in his hand. “Are you sure?” he asked. Without hesitation she grabbed the cross that hung at his neck and pulled him down to her. Eyes ablaze with desire she whispered, “I _need_ you, Finan.” He required no further invitation. He pulled his britches down but, instead of entering her as every fiber of his being begged him to, he flipped them around so that he was in a half sitting position, his back against the tree. Eadith gave a small gasp, but the beaming smile that she gave him assured him that it was one of surprised pleasure and not pain from her aching ribs. She straddled him and he could feel the warmth radiating from between her legs. He began giving her neck hungry kisses and she repeated, “I need you.”

Face pressed into her neck he growled, “Then take me, my queen.” He would give her the control that no man ever had, and she took it.

In a delicious, yet painfully slow movement, she lowered herself onto him. He felt her body shiver as she did so and he moaned in response. He followed her every lead, letting her control the experience and delighting in her pleasure. He was hers, body and soul. It wasn’t long before she collapsed in on herself, and he followed right after, moaning her name into her hair like a prayer.

They lay there for a few minutes, regaining their breath and tracing slow circles across each other’s bodies. “You owe me a dress,” she said, without looking up at him. He could feel her mischievous grin against his bare chest. “I will buy you a dozen when we are back in Coccham, although I don’t plan on letting you leave my bed long enough to wear them,” he teased.

"We should get back to the others before they die of thirst," she said as she rolled away from him. He groaned in displeasure as she got up but enjoyed the sight of her as she walked back towards the pile of their clothes they had left by the creek bed.

By the time he had pulled most of his clothes back on he turned to see that she was clothed as well. "Can you see the tear? Will my hair hide it?" she asked, trying to fan it out across her back. At first he couldn't see it, but when she turned her head away from him he spotted pale skin between her shoulder blades. There would be no hiding the rip in her dress.

Not wanting to distress her, he quickly fashioned a solution. Lifting his freshly cleaned chest armor off of the forest floor he strode towards her. "Raise your arms," he said. She looked at him quizzically but did as he commanded. He lifted the armor over her head and settled it across her chest. It was too big, to be sure, but by the time he had tightened the leather straps on each side it fit her well, and the back plate covered the tear in her dress completely.

"How do I look?" She giggled. He took in the sight of her. Copper hair glowing in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy above. Her purple skirt flowed around her as she twirled for him. His armor hugged her every curve. She looked like Maeve, the warrior queen of his homeland. She looked like home.

Eadith took his inability to speak as an ill reaction to her appearance. "I'll be fine without the armor," she started to say, pulling at the leather strings at her side. He lunged forward, firmly staying her hand with his own. She looked up at him, confused. "Marry me," he said, brown eyes staring into hers.

She arched her eyebrow at him and laughed, "Do you say that to every woman in armor?" But something in the intensity of his gaze must have conveyed his seriousness because she stopped mid-laugh and stared at him, her hands moving to his chest as his arms wrapped around her.

"Marry me, Eadith," he repeated. "We have both been rejected and betrayed by those who once claimed to love us. You said in Winchester that there was no one left alive that cared for you, but I care for you -I did, even then. I don’t know what path the Lord has planned for me, but I know that I want you at my side...my warrior queen."

"Yes," she exhaled, with absolutely no hesitation. “Where you go, I go, Finan - remember?”

He kissed her, relishing the idea of being able to spend the rest of his days doing just this.

"I loathe saying it but if we don't head back to the others soon they may go on to Coccham without us," he said, forcing himself to remove his lips from hers. Eadith laughed and nodded. Reluctantly, she pulled away from him and went to retrieve the water skins. As he watched her go he grabbed the cross at his neck and quietly muttered a prayer, “Lord, I don’t deserve her but please let me spend every day of eternity trying to prove myself worthy.”

“Is it customary in Coccham for husbands to simply stare at their wives while they do all of the heavy lifting?” she called to him as she lifted water skins out of the stream. Her wide smile betrayed any sense of mock anger she was trying to convey.

“Amen,” he whispered, before tucking the cross back in his shirt and saying more loudly, “Coming, my rigain.”


	6. A Battlefield of Her Own Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There has been a brutal battle and Eadith fears for Finan's life.

Eadith waited on the steps of the great hall in Coccham. They all waited. Every wife and mother was standing there, with nothing but the sound of the breeze in their skirts to break the silence.

A messenger had come an hour before, maybe less. It had not been good news. Uhtred and Sigtryggr’s armies had banded together to fight a group of especially vicious Danes who were attacking Mercia. They had defeated the enemy but had been ambushed on their return home by the Danish survivors. The fighting had been bloody and brutal, with their men coming out victorious - but barely. Uhtred had told the messenger to ride hard to Coccham to ensure Hild and the women prepared as many sick beds as possible.

So, prepared they had. The table in the main hall had been cleared of dishes, and was instead ready to be used to treat men’s wounds. Straw beds and furs lined the left and right sides. Water had been brought. Bandages had been gathered. Hild’s nunnery had been prepared for the sick too, but also for the dead. It had happened with the quick and somber efficiency of women who did not want to think about what may happen next. Now, all they could do was wait.

Hild stood to Eadith’s left, quietly murmuring a prayer that as many men as possible come back to them safely, and that those who couldn’t would find their place beside the Lord in heaven. Ealhswith, Sihtric’s wife, stood to her right, eyes searching the horizon. On the other side of the steps stood Stiorra. She had come with Sigtryggr to visit her father. She had two men to lose in this battle. Her jaw was set tightly and her eyes stared straight ahead in a cold stare - as if challenging her gods to take either man from her and face the consequences.

Eadith clasped a silver cross. Finan had given it to her on their wedding day, a mate to his own. They had started a ritual where every time that he rode off in Uhtred’s service he would kiss her cross and she would kiss his. His habit of putting his cross to his mouth before every battle meant that the last thing to touch his lips would be her kiss. “Just until I can come back for these,” he’d said the first time she had done it, tracing her lips with his finger. She fought the urge to bring her own cross to her mouth now. Finan would be kissing soon enough. He had to.

“There!” Stiora cried, pointing at dust rising from the ground on the horizon. Every woman in the estate took a collective breath together. They waited until the riders drew closer and they could confirm it was their own armies before they opened the gates.

Within a matter of moments, the silence within Coccham was swallowed by the sounds of hoof beats, shouts for help or bandages, and the cries of women as they spotted their loved ones. Eadith hadn’t heard noise like that since she had gotten caught amongst the battle for Winchester. Ironically, it had been a battle between these same armies, but now they surged through the gates together, brothers at arms.

Eadith ran into the mass of horses and men, absent-mindedly directing the wounded to the hall while also searching for him. Across the yard she spotted Uhtred. He looked tired and battle weary, but something was also different about him that Eadith couldn’t quite place. There was a fresh cut above his eye, but he looked otherwise unharmed. Stiorra ran to him. He squeezed her hand but then waved her off, likely telling her to help the wounded. Her brow was still knit with concern but eased when Uhtred said something else and nodded over his shoulder. Eadith and Stiorra both turned to see Sigtryggr riding through the gate, a wounded Dane in front of him on his horse. Stiorra ran to help him and Eadith breathed a sigh of relief on her behalf.

It was then that she realized what was so odd about Uhtred’s appearance. None of Uhtred’s men were at his side! Why was Finan not beside him as he rode through the gates? Eadith’s heart leapt into her throat. She couldn’t breathe. Where were they? She began to scan the fray in front of her again but couldn’t see them, so she started to fight her way through the mass of horses and men to get to Uhtred. She ignored the soldiers’ questions and pleas. She was a warrior fighting in a battlefield of her own fear.

Uhtred spied her, fighting against the current of men trying to get to the hall. Eadith realized that Ealhswith was about 5 paces to her right, also fighting upstream to get to Uhtred - also wanting answers about the fate of her husband.

Uhtred’s face sombered and he pointed behind him, back towards the gates. Men on makeshift stretchers had started to be carried in. Some were injured. Some were dead. Cold dread ran through Eadith’s veins and stopped her heart. A cold and shaky hand grabbed hers - Ealhswith’s. Eadith looked at her and saw a mirror of the fear that must be etched across her own face. They ran, hand in hand together.

They were an efficient team, dividing only to better search the stretchers as they passed through the gates. Eadith scanned bloody faces, many of whom she recognized. “The Thames will be alight with the flames of many funeral pyres,” she thought to herself. She felt sick at the thought and brought a hand to her stomach.

“Eadith! Ealhswith!” Her head snapped at the sound. Her name would never sound as sweet as it did on that Irish tongue. Where was he?

Then she saw him, disheveled and bloody. There was a cut on his right shoulder, the blood only slightly congealed. He’s alive and in one piece. Thank Jesus! He was carrying a stretcher. Directly opposite him was Osferth, holding the other side. Ealhswith’s cry resolved the question in her mind about who it was that they carried .

She flew to Finan’s side. Ealhswith was already on the other side of the stretcher, holding Sihtric’s hand. He had a bandage wound tightly around his left leg, blood seeping through it. He was unconscious with a sizeable welt rising on the side of his head, but Eadith was relieved to see that his chest still rose and fell. He was alive, for now at least.

She turned back to Finan, grasping his free hand in her own, walking half backwards as she assessed the damage to his body. “I’m fine,” he said reassuringly, even as the movement of flexing his arm to hold her hand caused fresh blood to seep a little from the wound. She desperately wanted to clean the gash and bandage it, but the concern in his deep brown eyes reminded her of the real priority right now. His brother was injured and he was worried. She had never seen Finan look this shaken after battle. It must have been horrific.

Hild met them at the steps of the hall. “Did you see what happened, Finan?” she asked in a calm and measured voice.

“He took a spear through the upper thigh. As he fell, his attacker swung his shield and struck him across the head. It would have been his end had Stryggr not shot an arrow through the bastard’s eye,” Finan said soberly. Ealhswith whimpered and clasped her husband’s hand tighter as they brought him into the hall and laid him on the table. Everyone else took several steps back to allow Hild to examine the wound. Her nuns stood by with fresh water, cleansing herbs, tonics, and clean bandages. Hild removed the blood soaked bandages around Sihtric’s thigh and then ripped his britches to allow herself better access to the wound. With a delicate touch, she prodded it.

“The spear went straight through the shallow part of the muscle. He’s lost quite a bit of blood but he should be fine,” she said. She then gently stroked the goose egg forming on his head. “He’s had worse,” she almost laughed. “He’ll wake up with a headache worse than any ale has ever given him, but that should be all. His leg will take time."

Her assessment and the relief on her face was a balm to the worry in all of their hearts. Hild had seen many a war wound and had fought in battles herself, several at Sihtric’s side. She would not give them false hope. Eadith felt Finan’s whole body relax beside her, a tension she had not realized he had been holding because it had matched her own so closely.

As Eadith watched Ealhswith stroke her husband’s brow and alternate between whispering in his ear and kissing his hand, she was reminded how close she had come to being in Ealhswith’s place, or worse. It could have been Finan on that table. It could have been Finan on one of the stretchers in the nunnery - his body cold and lifeless, waiting for burial. Eadith felt the bile rise in her throat and she clutched her stomach. She needed air.

Turning and quickly walking out the of the heavy doors of Uhtred’s hall, she inhaled deeply as a cool breeze reached her nose. Before her, Coccham was still a mass of chaos. Weapons were strewn on the ground. Some horses were wandering the yard, lost without their masters. She couldn’t face the devastation of it all right now, so she walked along the left wall of the hall. From its slightly raised vantage point she could see over the estate’s walls. The sun was descending below the horizon, sending rays of red and pink into the sky. The Thames mirrored the sky’s colours in darker shades, the sun’s light mixing with its murky waters.

A little ways away she could see the roof of the little house that she and Finan shared together. He had built it with his own hands before their marriage 3 seasons ago. It had been so important to him that he give her a home, a place that was theirs alone. He had been so secretive about it too, insisting that she stay at the nunnery with Hild while he built it. She would have been happy with a tent, or a bed roll under the stars - as long as she was with him. But, she couldn’t deny that he had built a home to be proud of. It had little in it to start. Just a straw bed in the corner, and a beautiful round table at its center. The table had been Uhtred’s wedding gift to them - built by his own hand. She and Finan had used it for more than a place to eat on several occasions, she remembered with a smile.

When he had carried her through the threshold that first night, she had laughed when she saw the empty flower vase sitting on the table. “Just in case.” he’d teased, eyes sparkling. She’d remarked that it had looked just like the one from her room in Winchester.

“That’s because it is,” he had replied, clearly pleased with himself. “Consider it a wedding gift from Edward...which he knows nothing about.”

“You’ve had it all this time?” she’d asked incredulously, still in his arms.

“I wanted you to have a weapon you were comfortable with on the road from Winchester, but that was before I knew the full extent of your fighting abilities,” he said before placing her on their marriage bed. She smiled at the memory. Since then that simple vase had become one of her most prized possessions - a reminder, however silly it was, of her own courage, and of the fact that Finan would be by her side.

The warmth of these memories were quickly followed by goosebumps when she came back to realizing how close she could have been to losing Finan today. She wasn’t naive. She knew that he was a warrior. Fighting was in his blood and to take that away from him would be like ripping away part of his soul. She had watched him ride to battle before and she’d been nervous but felt nothing like the fear she’d felt today. She kissed the cross at her neck and muttered a quiet prayer of gratitude that her husband had been brought back to her, even as the sobs of widows left behind reached her ears on the breeze.

She was pulled from her thoughts when strong, familiar arms wrapped themselves around her waist. She leaned back, revelling in his familiar scent and the feel of his beard at her cheek. Turning in his arms she cupped her hands around his face. “ Are you alright?” she asked, searching his eyes for any sign of a lie or an injury he may have hidden from her. His gaze, however, was strong and steady, if not a little tired.

“I am better now,” he muttered, bringing his lips to hers. They stayed like that for a moment before she remembered his injured shoulder and pulled away. It was already cleaned and bandaged. “Hild claims I’ll live,” he teased. “Although she wasted some good ale on the wound to prevent infection,” he muttered almost mournfully.

“Come! I took some of the good ale from the hall last week and saved it for you at home” Eadith replied, gently pulling him down the hill.

“Thief!” he teased, before quietly growling, “All I want is a bed and your company.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scared you, didn't I?
> 
> Have another chapter almost ready to go. Should post it in the next day or so. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always.


	7. Heaven Itself

As soon as they were through the door, Finan leaned his sword against the wall and started to pull his armor off. She helped him, laughing as he muttered every curse word he knew when he had to lift his arms and sore shoulder to get it over his head. 

Left in only his tunic and britches he walked over to the bed and collapsed in it. She carefully picked up his chest plate and started to walk to the washbowl in the corner to clean it for him. 

“That can wait,” he muttered, grabbing a hold of her arm as she passed and pulling her towards the bed. She let him pull her and landed happily in the furs beside him. 

“I cannot,” he whispered as he brought his mouth to hers. He’d only been gone for about a week but, especially given today’s events, it had felt like months. “I missed you,” he mumbled against her lips. 

“And I you,” she replied when he let her break for air for a moment. His kisses were soft and gentle and she knew that he truly planned to spend the rest of the day here, with her. She could think of nothing better. 

“My Queen was worried today,” he said, rolling back to look at her as he stroked her face. 

She sat up and pressed her lips together, debating how much of her feelings she should share with him. There would be more battles and he would be riding into them until he was too old to do so. She didn’t want the fear she had felt today to hold him back in the future. 

“Talk to me, darlin’,” he encouraged, his voice low and comforting. 

“It was the look in the messenger’s eyes,” she said, looking down at the bed cloth. “They were wild with fear, and the blood on his armor…” she trailed off. “With every bed that I laid out in the hall I prayed that you would not need to occupy it - even though I knew that someone’s husband, if not my own, likely would. And now, Sihtric…” she broke off, feeling the tears spill down her cheek - hating that they had betrayed her by doing so. 

“You did not cause Sihtric’s fall,” Finan said gently but firmly. He pulled himself up with a low grunt. “He’s fine. A few days rest and he’ll be back to himself, unfortunately.” She tried to smile at his joke, but found herself unable to. With his large thumb he wiped her tears, and she pressed her face into his touch. 

“If it had been you,” she began.

“It wasn’t,” he cut her off gently. “I’m too stubborn to die, love. I should have met my end many a time before now, and I haven’t. The Lord doesn’t want me and the Devil neither. I will die of old age and they’ll have to fight amongst themselves over who is stuck with me for all eternity.” This elicited a chuckle from her. He traced her lower lip with his thumb, clearly pleased to see her smile return. 

“I will always come back to you, Eadith. Heaven itself can’t compare to you.” 

He drew her down, back onto the bed, and pulled her tightly to him. He nuzzled his beard in her neck and softly kissed along her collarbone, which he knew never failed to light a fire in her. He was trying to distract her and he was doing a good job of it. She forced herself to take a deep breath. This was to be her fate - the wife of a warrior. However, if outside of those moments of fear she could have moments like this - in the arms of a man who loved her in a way that few women ever get to experience in their lifetime, let alone with their husband, she was blessed indeed. 

She felt his body get heavy around her and his breathing slow. She stroked his hair and held him as he slept before drifting off to sleep herself. 

-

Finan found her on the dock the next morning, checking the traps for fish. 

“You were up early,” he called as he approached. Indeed, she had been. She’d woken just before the sun, Finan snoring lightly beside her. Wanting him to enjoy his rest, she had quietly gotten up, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and snuck out the door. Eadith had gone to the hall first, relieving Hild of her self-imposed nursemaid duties so that she could attend morning prayers at the nunnery. 

It had been a welcome surprise to see Sihtric awake and smiling, Ealhswith curled up next to him. Her presence in his bed, even though both were fully clothed, would have caused a stir with Coccham’s nuns and gossips, but Hild had obviously allowed it. Sihtric winked at her as she passed and she had bent to gently squeeze his arm, not wanting to wake his sleeping wife. When Hild had returned from prayer Eadith had set her sights on the dock, knowing that there would be fish there to help feed the hungry mouths within the estate’s walls. 

Eadith’s responsible intentions melted away though as she saw the mischievous grin on Finan’s face. He had a bundle of cloth in one hand and she wondered at its contents. “Come!” he said, holding his hand out to her. She gave him a questioning look but knew by his expression that her questions would go unanswered. 

He led her, silently, down a path away from Coccham. The morning breeze was warm and held promise of a beautiful day. Not far down the path was a little grove of trees and it was into these that Finan took her. She had been here before. There was a stream that she often retrieved water from, its waters running clear on the way to meet the Thames. She smiled when she saw a fur spread out at the base of a tree. 

“I wonder if the men who saw you ripping Danes limb from limb yesterday know that you are such a romantic,” she teased, gently elbowing him in the ribs. 

“I am a man of many talents,” he smirked, knowing that beneath her teasing she was pleased.

“I wanted some time alone together,” he explained. “And, I brought food!” he added brightly, while holding up the bundle. They sat on the fur and spread out the apples, cheese, and bread that Finan had brought for them. As she bit into an apple she saw him staring at her and grinning. 

“Is it customary in Coccham for husbands to stare at their wives while they eat?” she asked, using a variation of a line that she’d said often throughout their marriage. 

His grin broadened and he said, “I was thinking of that day in the woods, after those bastard thieves attacked us.” He looked up at the trees, the sunlight filtering through their branches, just as they had that day. “I remember how good you looked in my armor. You should wear that again...” he trailed off, letting them both remember all of the events that had led to her needing to wear his armor in the first place.

“I’ve been thinking of something else too,” he said, after a pause.

“So much thinking, my lord! Be careful or you’ll end up injuring yourself and in a sick bed next to Sihtric,” she teased. As she said it, she crawled into the space between his legs, resting her back against his chest. He playfully growled and nipped her ear with his teeth, but when he didn’t joke back she knew that he was serious about something. 

“What is it?” she asked, turning slightly so that she could better look at his face.

“I’m going to ask Uhtred if I can be his man here at Coccham,” he said, purposefully not meeting her eye. “I can train new soldiers, help with battle strategies, and ensure Coccham is well protected. With Beocca gone, he needs someone here he can trust. I’m getting too old to be riding ‘round England for every skirmish.” 

“No!” she said, with an intensity that surprised herself. She turned around fully in his lap. His eyes shot up to her. Clearly, he had not expected this reaction from her either.

“Finan, I’ve seen you fight. You have a warrior’s soul and you come alive on the battlefield. I know that I was shaken yesterday, but I also know the man that I married. Do not do this on my account.” He sighed. The sigh itself was an admission that his true motivation was to make her happy. To spare her the pain of being one of the wives she had seen burying her husband that morning. The very fact that he had considered it at all made her heart ache with love for him. 

He was still visibly torn, so she straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He responded by circling his large hands around her waist, placing his full attention on her face. She fixed her eyes on his before continuing, “I vowed to be at your side on your path, Finan, not take you from it. Don’t let my weakness yesterday pull you from the life you were meant to lead.”

“You are not weak, love,” he quietly but firmly interjected. He held her gaze to ensure she knew that he meant it. 

She kissed his forehead in thanks, and then rested her own against it, before adding, “We will be fine here in Coccham, as long as you always come back to us.” 

He pulled away from her slightly, his brow creased a little in confusion. “Us?” he asked. She bit her lip, afraid that she had said too much at the wrong time, before nodding and pulling his hand from around her waist and laying it across her belly.

“Us,” she repeated. “I wanted to wait to be sure before I told you.” 

Finan’s eyes widened before a smile threatened to split his face in two. “Us?” he asked in disbelief. “You are with child?” She nodded, her smile beginning to match his own. He kissed her hard before leaning his head back and breaking into a deep laugh of pure joy. When he looked back at her again his brown eyes were awash with emotion: happiness, shock, and a deeper love than she had once thought she would have ever had the right to know. God alone knew what she had done to deserve this man.

Joy gave way to lust, as Finan gently leaned her back and began a trail of kisses down her neck that set her blood on fire. “My Queen,” he breathed into the skin of her collarbone, before continuing to kiss down the front of her dress, in between her breasts and stopping at her belly. “And, my princess,” he whispered, his voice overflowing with love. 

“You don’t want a son?” Eadith asked incredulously, half raising herself on her elbows. Finan still crouched by her belly, a smile permanently etched onto his face. 

“Not if the heavens see fit to bless me with a daughter with even half of her mother’s spirit,” he said, laying another kiss on Eadith’s belly before coming up to place one on her lips. This kiss was harder and more passionate, with more need behind it. 

“We should go back to the house,” she gasped as he moved his mouth from hers to the pulsing place in her throat, his hand travelling up her skirt and thighs. “I have some armor I need to put on.” He growled into her throat and she laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> The next chapter is partially written and is my favourite!


	8. A Battlefield of His Own Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eadith is in labour. Finan struggles with not being able to be at her side.  
> Warning: Slightly graphic description of childbirth/labour - for those who may be sensitive to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a beast of a chapter! I kept trying to divide it, but everywhere I cut it seemed to interrupt the flow. So, bear with me with this one.  
> 

“Another ale please, Agnes,” Osferth called to the barmaid. He smiled in thanks as she set a fresh jug on the table and immediately began to pour for his table companions. He discretely filled one glass a little more than the rest, intending to take it himself, but as he reached for it Sihtric swatted his hand and gave it to Finan instead. He shot the baby monk a look and Osferth gave a half nod of his head in ascent. Sihtric was right, Finan needed the drink more than he did. 

“Finan, drink and calm yourself,” Sihtric gently chided. “You’re about to be a father, not face down the entire Danish army!” 

Finan sat between them, nervously fidgeting and bouncing his leg so severely that their cups shook on the table. “I’d prefer the army,” Finan grumbled as he swallowed half of his glass in one shot. Sihtric and Osferth shared a look but said nothing, knowing how delicate their friend’s mood was. 

Eadith had gone into labour 3 hours ago, her waters breaking just outside of the stables. Hild and Ealhswith had come to her aid and taken her home. They had been at her side ever since. Finan had been taking inventory at the armoury when it happened, and had not heard of the baby’s impending arrival until it was too late. The nuns waiting on his doorstep had informed him that men were not allowed in.

So, he was here, at the ale house. Normally, this place was his sanctuary but not tonight. A faint cry carried itself on the wind to his ears. It was Eadith. Finan had intentionally built his home close to the ale house. “Makes stumbling home safer,” he had told Eadith. “I am glad that you are prioritizing safety,” she had replied with a laugh. Now, however, he sorely regretted that decision. Osferth winced at the sound and Sihtric pretended not to hear. 

“Where is everyone?” Finan grumbled, looking around at the mostly empty tables that surrounded them. The eerily quiet pub was contributing to his unease. 

“It is harvesting time. Most of the town’s men have chosen sleep over drink so as to make the most of the daylight hours tomorrow,” Osferth said with an apologetic look. 

Finan raked his hands through his hair and scrubbed his beard in exasperation, “Does it always take this long?” 

“Yes! With our first, Ealhswith was in labour for over half a day. I can’t believe that she ever let me take her to bed again after that,” Sihtric laughed, before seeing Finan’s dark glare and trying to cover his laugh with a cough. 

“Let’s make a wager, shall we?” Osferth piped up, his voice unusually high as he strained to lighten the mood. “Boy or Girl?,” he asked - pointing a finger at Sihtric to get his answer first. However, before Sihtric could respond, Agnes loudly called across the room, “Girl! We need more women around here!”

“Agreed!” called back Osferth. He did not realize the implication of what he had said until Finan smacked him upside the back of the head. 

Sihtric chuckled and then answered, “Boy, but let us pray for Eadith’s sake that he does not come out with a sword in his hand.” Both men burst into laughter just as another cry made its way into the night air from the house down the road. 

Finan abruptly stood, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor and catching everyone but Finan by surprise. “I’m going to leave before I introduce both of your noses to the backs of yer skulls,” he said brusquely.

“Wait! Finan! Where are you going to go?” a half inebriated Sihtric called after him, partially rising from his chair. Osferth grabbed the Dane’s arm and pushed him back to his seat, realizing that they had crossed a line which did not usually exist with Finan. Confused, they watched him disappear into the night. 

In truth, Finan did not have a plan for where he was going to go either. He just knew that he had to get away from the ale house. His feet knew what he needed better than he did, and soon he found himself in front of the armoury for the second time that day. The desire to feel the weight of steel in his hand overwhelmed him, so he hurried to the weapons store room. Digging the key out of its hiding place behind a loose board, Finan quickly opened the padlock. Before him lay a stockpile of swords, axes, staffs, and training weapons. Each of them meticulously cleaned and organized by himself that morning. His own sword was currently held hostage in the house with Eadith, so one of these would have to do. 

Choosing a sword with a white leather grip he strode out to the open field they used for training. The moon was nearly full and the sky clear of clouds, which was good since he didn’t have a torch with him. Circling the perimeter of the field were ominous shadowy figures. Each one was a target or straw dummy used for practice. 

Finan took a deep breath of the cool night air and forced himself to focus on the weight of the sword in his hand. He sliced it through the air, turned and thrust it into an invisible enemy. 

_“You should be there,”_ whispered the voice that had been haunting his thoughts all evening. 

Slice, turn, stab. 

_“She is in pain and you’re not there.”_

Lunge, block, thrust.

_“How many men in her life are going to let her down when she needs them most?”_

Battle cry. Attack. 

He’d sliced through the first dummy before he even knew what he was doing. Straw flew into the air as his blade split the dummy clean in two. The resistance against his blade, weak as it was, felt good. So, he moved onto the next dummy, lifting the sword high to hack down through its shoulder and deep into its torso. He lifted the sword again and swung it high and even, parting the dummy’s head from its body. 

He made it through 3 more dummies before a familiar voice cut through the night air behind him and stopped him mid-swing, “Finan, lower your sword.” 

Finan straightened and slowly pointed his sword at the ground before turning to face his lord. Uhtred stood about 10 paces away, arms crossed, brow furrowed in concern. 

“The baby is comin’,” Finan said quietly, hoping that it would answer the question in his friend’s eyes. 

“I know. I was told as soon as I came in from my meeting with the farmers. You should be at Agnes’, drinking ale,” Uhtred replied, cautiously. 

“I can’t be there listening to those fools joke while every breeze taunts my ears with Eadith’s cries of pain,” Finan huffed before running at another dummy, sword raised and piercing it through the heart. He left the sword embedded in its chest before going to lean against the large wooden target beside it. 

Uhtred approached his friend slowly. “Eadith is a strong woman, Finan. She will be alright.”

“So was Gisela,” Finan exhaled, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them. He watched them hit Uhtred like a slap, freezing him where he stood. Finan saw the tears immediately spring to his friend’s eyes. Finan regretted opening up the wound of Gisela’s death, but he also knew that Uhtred was the only one who could truly understand the fear that was at the root of his anguish. Uhtred silence affirmed that nothing he could say could dispute Finan’s words. 

“What if she is fighting for her life in there and I’m out here like a fool. What if she needs me and I’m not there, letting her down like every man before me?” he choked out as the tears spilled down his cheeks and into his beard. 

With a sad sigh, Uhtred closed the space between them and pulled Finan into a hug. He held him for a few moments while he sobbed, giving Finan the strength and comfort that he had given to Uhtred on so many occasions. 

“Many a woman has survived labour before Eadith,” Uhtred said gently, still holding him tightly. “She will survive this too. She is not alone either - Hild and Ealhswith will guide her.” 

“I feel I will go mad before the baby comes,” Finan grumbled, as he pulled away from Uhtred, looking at the ground. “I feel weak,” he added, almost shamefully.

“Love makes all men weak,” Uhtred chuckled. He paused for a moment, as Finan used his sleeve to wipe his face before adding, “Do you remember the day that I gave you my blessing to marry her?”

Finan gave him a half smile. “You were putting the cart before the horse, if I remember correctly,” he chuckled. 

It had been during Sigtryggr’s siege of Winchester. Eadith had volunteered to go into the besieged village to check on the hostages and Finan’s skin had crawled with worry. He had been sitting on the ground, hidden by long grasses, staring at the city walls. His eyes were sore from the strain of scanning Winchester’s gates for her copper hair or any sign that she was alright. 

“You have my blessing,” Uhtred had said, settling down beside him.

Finan had raised his eyebrow at him in confusion. 

“To marry her. When this is all over, make her your wife,” Uhtred added, a mischievous but genuine smile plastered across his face. 

“Who? _Eadith?_ ” Finan had asked incredulously. “She’d never have me!” he laughed. “She deserves better. I worry about her, that’s all.”

“She deserves no less, and you are moments away from tearing those gates down with your bare hands if we do not find a way in soon,” Uhtred had chuckled. 

Coming back to the present, Finan looked at Uhtred mournfully, “I thought I had lost you both then, at Winchester,” he said quietly. He remembered the sight of Uhtred walking alone through those gates in exchange for the safe return of Edward’s children. 

“We are both still here,” Uhtred said softly, placing a firm hand on Finan’s shoulder. “Now go,” he said, as he gently pushed Finan away. “I will not keep you from her again.”

“But men cannot be present at the birth. Nuns are guarding the door,” Finan moaned.

“When has that ever stopped you before?” Uhtred laughed. 

Finally, a wide, toothy grin spread across Finan’s face. “Thank you, Lord,” he said as he turned and ran. 

Uhtred watched his friend retreat into the darkness and sighed. 

“Protect her, Gisela, for Finan’s sake. He deserves to be happy,” Uhtred whispered to himself. Then, chuckling at the mess of straw around him, he pulled the sword from the last dummy’s chest and walked back to the amoury’s store room. 

===

Sister Nessa was sitting on the steps of Finan’s and Eadith’s home. She saw Finan coming, and strode out to meet him, her stout frame moving surprisingly quick. Finan quietly cursed under his breath as he halted his run. Sister Nessa was from Irland. She was one of the few sisters who was immune to Finan’s charms and had the will of an ox. Hild had undoubtedly chosen Sister Nessa intentionally to stay outside and prevent Finan from entering.

“Good evening, Sister,” Finan said in his most charming voice, hoping for a miracle. “Might I say that you look especially lovely in the moonlight.”

“You cannot go in,” Sister Nessa said firmly, her pinched face making it clear that she was having none of it. 

“I _am_ going in,” Finan said firmly, dropping all pretenses. “I have Uhtred’s permission, so I kindly ask that you let me go to my wife,” he said, moving to step around her. At that moment a woman’s cry could be heard from within the house, and Finan’s eyes snapped up, as his arm muscles flexed defensively. 

The sister gave an exasperated sigh but blocked Finan’s movement by placing a large, firm hand across his chest. “Finan, if you go in there, I must warn you that it will not be pretty. Childbirth is God’s work, but it is a messy and bloody business.” she lectured him.

“I have been on a battlefield, Sister. I think I can handle the sight of blood.” Finan shot back, pushing her arm away from him. 

“But it is **not** an ordinary battlefield, Finan!” she snapped, putting her body between him and the doorway. “There will be no Dane’s face for you to stare down and defeat. There will just be your wife, and the painful mess that is the miracle of bringing a life into this world. You will be able to do nothing but hold her hand and reassure her that she is not alone.”

Finan gently clasped both of the sister’s hands in his own and bent a little so that his eyes could meet hers. “That’s all I want, Sister,” he whispered. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted since the day I met her. Let me go to her!” he pleaded, the desperation clear in his voice. 

Sister Nessa’s face softened a fraction. Shaking her head and mumbling, “Lord, forgive me,” she stepped out of his way. 

“Thank you, Sister,” Finan called back to her as he ran for the door. 

Bursting through it, he was met by 3 pairs of eyes. Ealhswith was on the bed, at Eadith’s left side, holding her hand tightly. Hild was sitting on a stool, between Eadith’s legs, blood and fluid streaking the sheets on either side of her. Sister Nessa was not lying about the battlefield, and there was his Eadith at the center of it. Her hair was pulled back. She was pale and sweat poured down the sides of her face.

“Finan...what are you….you can’t be…” Eadith panted, hands clutching her belly. 

“Well don’t just stand there!” Hild snapped, “Make yourself useful and get over here. It’s almost time,” she said, rolling her eyes at Finan. She knew that if he had made it this far, arguing with him would be futile. 

Finan flew across the room and clasped Eadith’s right hand. 

“I’m here love,” he said, gently stroking her sweat soaked brow.

She panted, “I’m so tired, Finan!” He could see the exhaustion on every line of her face. She was desperate to claim defeat, but he would not let her.

“You can do this!” he said, bringing his large hand to her cheek and forcing her to make eye contact with him. “You’ve put up with my silly arse all this time. This is nothin’,” he added with a smirk. 

“Did you attack a hay bale?” Eadith asked weakly, picking a piece of straw out of Finan’s disheveled hair.

“Somethin’ like that,” he answered with a low chuckle.

She gave him a bewildered and amused smile, but another contraction hit before she could say anything else. 

“Aaaagh!” she screamed, lunging forward and gripping the bed sheets. 

“You’re almost there,” Hild encouraged! “A few more hard pushes and your babe will be here. Push!” she commanded. 

Ealhswith quickly moved down the bed to support Eadith’s leg. His wife took a deep breath and grabbed Finan’s hand in the fiercest grip he had ever felt. For a fraction of a second he worried that she would break his sword hand, but he also realized that he didn’t care. All that mattered was this moment. 

“You are a Queen!” he loudly whispered into her ear as she began to push. 

“That’s it!” Hild said excitedly. “Almost!!”

“You are a warrior,” he nearly chanted, as she half sat off the bed and pushed hard. A roar made its way through her chest and out of her mouth - the most powerful battle cry Finan had ever heard. 

Her strength spent, she fell back hard on the pillow behind her, gasping for breath, eyes closed. 

A new cry broke the night air, strong and angry. Eadith’s eyes flew open as Finan felt the breath catch painfully in his chest.

“It’s a girl!” Ealhswith exclaimed in delight. 

“A perfect, baby girl,” Hild added, holding up a pink and wriggly mess of a baby. Finan had never seen anything more beautiful, even as his vision clouded with tears. 

\---

Finan awoke the next morning to the sound of his daughter fussing. Eadith had just fed her before falling back into sleep beside him. He laughed as he saw tiny fists reach above the edge of the wooden cradle that Osferth had made for them. 

Quietly leaving the bed and careful not to disturb Eadith, he padded over to stare at his daughter. Her small hazel eyes met his own, and he felt his chest swell while his knees weakened. 

“Good mornin' princess. Let’s you and I go for a walk and let your mother rest,” he whispered as he gently picked her up. Carefully tucking the blanket around her, he opened the door and walked into the crisp morning air. The sun had only just risen and the village was quiet. 

Offering his baby girl his finger, he chuckled when she immediately grasped it in a strong grip, making cooing noises as she did so. 

“Let me introduce you to the world,” he said softly, stepping off of the step and slowly walking towards the small orchard and garden that stood next to their house. 

The autumn leaves rustled softly in the breeze as they entered. Their golden hue caught his daughter’s eye as she stared up at them. 

“This is an oak tree,” he told her as he stood beneath the largest tree in the garden. “When you’re older, I will teach you to climb it.”

He walked her over to the smaller tree beside the oak, it’s leaves a blend of gold and fiery red. “This is a hazel tree. Its nuts are your mother’s favourite. If you ever cross her, a handful of hazelnuts will usually buy you a pardon” he chuckled. Lowering his voice to a whisper and leaning closer to his baby’s ear he added, “I’ll even show you where I keep a stash of them for year ‘round emergencies.” 

The little one in his arms stared up at him as he talked, reaching for his beard with her tiny hands and making cooing noises at the cadence of his voice. 

He continued in this way, showing her every plant and colour he could find in the garden, introducing them to her one by one. 

Eadith stepped out of the house in time to see him pick an apple from a tree and hold it for his daughter to touch. Finan laughed as her tiny arms batted at it, her fingers not yet having the dexterity or strength to hold it, but trying nonetheless 

Sensing that they were being watched, Finan turned and smiled as his eye met Eadith’s. 

“She is stubborn, like her father,” Eadith called, as the tiny hands continued to swing for the apple.

“I believe determined is the word you’re looking for,” he said as he closed the space between them. ‘And I think we’re both at fault there,” he said as he leaned in to kiss her. 

"You should be resting," he chided, doing his best to give her a stern look that Hild would be proud of. 

"It was too quiet," she sighed, "And my arms too empty." With that she scooped up the bundle from Finan, glowing as she stared down at their little girl. 

Finan, wrapped his arms around Eadith's waist, mindful of the precious cargo nestled between them. They stood there, foreheads pressed together, for several long moments. 

“What do you want to name her?” Eadith asked quietly, careful not to disturb their daughter as her eyes slowly closed into a peaceful slumber. 

“Finana,” her husband replied without hesitation. She warily looked up at him and was relieved to see that he was clearly teasing her. She exhaled in relief and shook her head in defiance of his cheeky grin. 

“I don’t know,” he continued, “did you have something in mind?”

Eadith looked around them at the golden autumn leaves, a faint smile playing across her lips. 

“I was thinking of Órlaith (Or-lah),” she answered tentatively, carefully watching Finan’s expression to gauge his reaction. When he took half a step back and stared at her, she nervously continued, “It means "golden princess" in Irland, does it not? She was born in the golden season, under a harvest moon so I just thought…”

“It’s perfect,” Finan quietly interrupted. She was pleased to see a wide grin break out across his face. “But, how did you know that?” he asked. 

“Sister Nessa mentioned it when my labour was in the early stages. She thought it was appropriate, as do I,” Eadith said, as she tucked a corner of the blanket under Orla’s shoulder. 

“It seems that I am going to be in the Sister’s debt for quite a bit,” Finan sighed.

“When you charged in last night, I was worried you’d sent her to her maker,” Eadith teased, as she turned to head back for the house. 

Finan put his hand to his heart in mock horror, “I would never harm a sister!” Eadith chuckled and then he added, “But I may have tried flirting with her.” Eadith looked at him incredulously before he threw his hands up placatingly and added, “Unsuccessfully!”

Eadith stifled a laugh and shook her head at him. 

“Now, both of you - back to bed, before Hild removes my manhood,” he said, opening the door of their house wide so that the ladies of his house could enter. 

Eadith paused in front of him in the doorway and gave him a tender kiss before pulling back just enough that she could whisper, “Flirt with one of the sisters again and I’ll do it myself.” 

Finan gave a low chuckle and pulled her back to him for a longer kiss. 

“Amen,” he uttered, as he released her and followed her into their little home, smiling as he shut the door behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, for reading. This was my favourite chapter to write, by far!


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Órlaith (Or-lah) is her father's daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mention of fertility issues.

“I was afraid we were done for back there,” Finan huffed as he grabbed a shield off of the wall and carried it with one arm towards the back of the armoury. With his free hand, he dug into a barrel tucked into the corner and pulled out a small parcel. 

“But you are not afraid of anything,” said a small voice.

“I am afraid of your mother’s wrath,” Finan replied, “and you best fear her too!” He said the last part sternly but the twinkle in his eye told Órlaith that he was mostly teasing her. Mostly. They had been less than truthful with her mother on the way out of the house that morning. Her father had announced at breakfast that Órlaith was needed to help Osferth clean out the stables and that, despite only having seen 5 summers, it was time that she contributed to the Coccham community. For a moment, Órlaith had protested, but a quick look from her father had assured her that he had other plans. They had always had their own language, the two of them, and she was especially grateful for it on mornings such as this.

“Quickly now,” Finan said, holding the shield up and a little apart from the corner of the wall and putting the bundle into his daughter’s outstretched hands. “They’ll be starting soon, if they haven’t already.” 

Without hesitation Órlaith ducked behind the shield and began to shimmy out of the dress her mother had put her in less than an hour ago. The privacy offered by the shield was not entirely necessary, as anyone needing to come to the armoury that day would already be outside, but Finan wanted to ensure she would be hidden should one of the young boys run in unexpectedly. Opening the parcel, she pulled out a small pair of pants, roughly tailored by Osferth, and a small shirt that had formerly belonged to one of Sihtric’s sons. 

“Let’s go,” Órlaith said, emerging from behind the shield as she gathered her long, dark, wavy hair onto the top of her head and held it in place with a wooden comb. “I have a Dane to put on his bottom.”

Finan laughed and scooped her up in the air. “That Dane is the son of one of the greatest warriors I’ve ever known, my little princess. Do not let your head get ahead of you before battle.”

“Then it is a good thing that my father is a _greater_ warrior,” Órlaith giggled. 

“And where do I fit in, m’lady?” asked Osferth as he came to stand in the doorway. He grinned mischievously at the young girl and was rewarded with a delighted squeal as she jumped from Finan’s arms into his own. 

“You are the best teacher!” Órlaith replied without hesitation. 

Osferth had begun to teach Órlaith her alphabet and numbers a few months ago, at Finan’s insistence that she be educated. His daughter and the Baby Monk had been close all her life, but their bond had only strengthened since her lessons began. 

“Then let us go learn about the letter V,” Osferth said with a chuckle as he set Órlaith’s feet on the ground. 

“Victory!” Órlaith yelled, one arm above her head as she charged into the training yard.

Shaking his head but smiling, Sihtric handed her a wooden training sword as she ran past him. His youngest son, Sten, was already waiting in the middle of the yard for her. 

Almost a year older than her and tall for his age, Sten was nearly a head taller than Órlaith. The two of them had been playmates from the moment they had met. Their determination and fighting spirit had made them a force to be reckoned with among Coccham’s children. 

“I thought that your mother had convinced you to stay home and leave the training to the men,” Sten teased with a toothy grin. He had been Órlaith’s training partner ever since the snow had begun to thaw, yet he still delighted in riling her up by taunting her for being a girl. 

“You’re not a man, yet,” Órlaith quickly retorted as she assumed a fighting stance, crouching and wooden sword pointed towards Sten. 

“And if her mother hears of this you will not grow up to become one,” Finan growled from the sidelines. He was not sure how Eadith would react to their young daughter learning to sword fight. However, he did know that his daughter lit up when she had a sword in her hand, and nothing could bring him to put her joy in jeopardy. These sparring sessions were harmless. Yet, he couldn’t help but be grateful that Órlaith would at least have some basic defensive skills as she grew up and made her way in the world. 

“Enough taunting,” Sihtric said quietly as he moved towards the children in the middle of the fighting circle. “Remember your training: patience and honour.” He looked each of them in the eye as he said this before walking away, “Begin!”

Sten and Órlaith circled each other for a few moments, both smiling in delight at the impending game, but it was Sten who struck first. He lunged forward, but Órlaith quickly blocked his attack. He had the size advantage, however, and after several blows she was losing ground and was tiring. 

She didn’t give up. Setting her jaw and blowing a strand of hair from her face she resumed her stance and surveyed her opponent - looking for weaknesses, as her father had taught her. It was then that she saw Osferth behind Sten. He met her eye and seemed to mindlessly tap his calf with the sword he held. Understanding dawned on her and she smiled broadly as Sten swung his sword for her shoulder. Dropping to her knees she heard his sword woosh over her head as her own sword made contact with the backs of his legs. Sten cried out at the impact and fell.

“Hit!” Órlaith cried, fist up in the air.

Sten turned towards her and glared but soon found himself grinning right along with her. 

“Where did you learn that?” he asked, shaking his head at her.

“Her father,” Sihtric sighed, offering his hand to his son and pulling him up. “You fought well,” he added, clapping Sten on the back. 

“You did, Sten! Better luck next time,” Finan said beside them. He was doing his best not to gloat, but he could not stop the twinkle of pride from reaching his eyes. 

“Well done, m’lady,” added Osferth with a wink as he took Órlaith’s training sword from her. 

“Thank you,” she giggled back, thanking him more for his help than his congratulations. 

“Yes, well done, all of you,” called a voice from the edge of the training field. 

They all turned to find Eadith leaning against the armoury's doorway. She was smiling, and clearly enjoying the fact that she had managed to surprise them. 

“Mama! Did you see me?” Órlaith cried, her joy causing her to forget that this was all supposed to be a secret from her mother. 

“I did, my love,” Eadith replied warmly, bending down to give her daughter a kiss on her brow. “You have been well trained.” The look that she gave Finan over the top of her daughter’s head told him that she may not be angry, but there would be a conversation about this later. 

Like a bunch of children who had been caught jumping on the bed, Coccham’s warriors quietly grabbed the remaining swords and equipment from the training field and, without meeting Eadith’s eye, began to head back into the armoury. 

“Are we going home, now?” Órlaith asked, unsure of how to read the change in mood.

“You, my dearest, are going to help Osferth clean the stables. I was not lying about that this mornin’” Finan said. Just as she had at breakfast, Órlaith opened her mouth to argue but a quick look from Finan silenced the protest that rose to both her's and Osferth’s lips. 

“Let’s go,” Osferth said with a sigh, coming up to steer Órlaith to the door and shooting Finan a look of displeasure as he did so. Finan only grinned, knowing that he would be able to buy the Baby Monk’s forgiveness at the ale house later. That is, if his wife - who he now stood alone with on the training field - let him live that long. 

“Shall we go for a walk?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t quite read her expression, which was most disconcerting for him. She seemed to be enjoying his uncertainty as she smiled and led the way out of the armoury and through Coccham’s gates, towards the the path that followed the river. 

Once surrounded by the babble of the Thames and late morning bird song, she slowed and laced her fingers through his. Finan let out the breath he had been holding and found the courage to speak first. 

“Are you angry?”

“No. I’ve known for a few weeks - ever since Órlaith started coming home with long and skinny bruises,” Eadith replied, shooting her husband a sideways glance and a small grin before pressing her lips together again.

“I wish you had told me though, Finan. You didn’t have to keep it from me. I would have thought you would know that I am glad if Órlaith knows how to protect herself. Besides…”

Eadith trailed off and stopped walking. Her eyes found some far off point across the river and her hand made its way to her belly. 

“You are a great warrior, Finan. You deserve to have children...sons, to pass your skills down to. I would never deny you that more than I…” she trailed off again and tears filled her eyes.

Finan knew that she was no longer with him on that river bank. She was drowning in memories of other pregnancies that had been lost - two in previous summers and one just this past winter while he had been gone with Uhtred in Lundun. The pain in her eyes as she had met him in the doorway of their little home was the same pain that he saw now, and he could not bear to see it there. 

“My love,” he said gently, stepping into her field of vision and cupping her face in his hands. 

“You have denied me _nothin’_. I had sons in Irland. It was I alone who robbed myself of the chance to raise them. That is my sin to atone for, not yours. Do not carry that burden, love. ” 

He looked deep into her eyes, willing her to believe the truth in his words, for he meant it with every bone in his body. 

Eadith blinked away her tears and nodded, not because she believed he needed to atone for anything, but because she believed he did not blame her for their struggles to have more children. 

Finan kissed her forehead and continued, his hands dropping to clasp hers, “I did not start out trying to deceive you. Órlaith followed me to the armoury one day. She and Sten grabbed wooden training swords when I wasn’t looking and as she jousted with him I saw that she loved it. She could not stop smiling. She has your smile, and I have never been able to say no to it.”

Eadith rewarded him with one of those same smiles and he felt his heart clench. 

“I did not know if you would approve, so I kept it from you, thinking that it was a fleeting thing that would pass. I should have known better, on all fronts, and I am sorry. Forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Eadith said, leaning into him and giving him a tender kiss. More seriously she added, “But, can I please sew her a proper pair of pants now? I am surprised she can move at all in those with one leg sewn too short and the waist taken in unevenly!”

Finan laughed, “Aye, she would probably be grateful for that. Osferth did his best though, bless ‘im.”

“There is something else you should know,” he added after a moment. Eadith looked up at him, clearly both curious and bracing herself. 

“Edward has finally given his consent for Uhtred to use the King’s armies to retake Bebbanburg. We got word last night. We’ll be ready to head out in a week.”

Eadith nodded her head and felt the familiar pain of knowing her husband was about to head off into battle. After all of this time she would have thought she’d be used to it, but she still felt an ache in her heart every time. 

“I think he has real chance of taking it now. If we are successful, he will be Lord of Bebbanburg and Coccham will get a new lord,” Finan added this last part carefully. 

Of course, Eadith had always known of Uhtred’s intentions to take back his birthright. She knew too that Finan had sworn himself to Uhtred’s service and would follow him. Still, she felt a momentary rise of panic at the thought of leaving Coccham and its memories behind. 

She looked up into her husband’s face. She knew every line and every scar. She had memorized the lines that formed around his eyes when he laughed, and she loved the three grey hairs that had appeared one day in his beard. Coccham had been her refuge and offered her a place to heal and grow into herself, but this man was her home.

“Where you go, I go, Finan,” she said gently, answering the question in his eyes. “When you return victorious from the North, Órlaith and I will be ready to follow you to our new home.”

Finan breathed a sigh of relief. He knew his family would follow him, but he had worried that uprooting them and their lives would have caused his wife greater distress. 

“Bebbenburg reminds me of Irland,” he said wistfully. “It is set on a great cliff overlooking the sea. Waking up to the smell of sea air is far better than the stinkin’ Thames,” he chuckled, waving his hand at the river. 

“Speaking of which,” she said, leading him back towards Coccham’s dock, “I need your help retrieving water.”

“What for?” he asked as Eadith began to stride ahead of him, a new purpose in her step.

“Well, when our daughter returns from the stables smelling of horse turds she will need a bath, and I will not be the one bathing her,” Eadith called backwards. She shot a teasing look over her shoulder, green eyes daring him to challenge her.

Knowing that he would drain the Thames for her if she asked, he simply chuckled and called back, “Yes, my queen!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Órlaith has been in my brain asking for me to write her story. 
> 
> New Fic coming soon!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in a very, very long time. I've been in a bit of a depressed/writing rut lately with everything going on but something about the last scene between Eadith and Finan in S4 just sparked something in me. The look that Finan gives Eadith as he is wrapping her ribs told such a story and I wanted to write it all down for them. This fiction, and whatever format it ends up in, is (selfishly) mostly for me, but I hope that someone else enjoys some small part of it.  
> Constructive criticism is always welcome. Thank you for reading.


End file.
